


Starlight

by crazycatlady713



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Young Turtles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:06:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazycatlady713/pseuds/crazycatlady713
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fight ensues during their first Christmas celebration, resulting in Mikey's disappearance. (Based on a prompt by a fellow DA user.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starlight

It began the same way most life-altering events usually do; By reading a really good book.

They found it in the dump just as they did most of their belongings, wedged firmly between a half-empty carton of spoiled milk and the rusted remains of an old carburetor. The cover was warped, the binding badly cracked, and the pages swollen, wavy and smelling distinctly of mold. Splinter had long ago instilled in them the importance of reading however, and into the bag it went with the rest of their finds. Even a badly damaged book was better than no book at all, they reasoned. It was unearthed again that very night during storytime, Leo himself thrusting it into their Master's waiting hands.

Splinter settled into his favorite wingback chair, steaming cup of green tea in hand, as the boys assembled anxiously at his feet. The odor from the mildewed tome caused the old rat's sensitive nose to wrinkle up in disgust. He cracked it open with a bemused smirk however, grateful to see his brood so eager to be read to. The stink was even more palpable as he turned to the first page, the blight so intense he could almost taste it. 

"T'was the night before Christmas," he began, trying valiantly to stifle the coughing fit threatening to erupt. "When all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse..."

The fascination with the strange customs outlined in the book was instantaneous. What was the significance behind the tree, they asked, and did it specifically have to be pine? What of the stockings pinned to the fireplace, and what if one did not have a fireplace? Who _exactly_ was this large, strangely-attired man who traveled via flying reindeer and squeezed himself down chimneys in order to deliver toys to children? And perhaps most importantly, what did they have to do to attract the strange man's attention? 

The choice was obvious, it seemed. They all agreed, with Splinter's consent of course, to replicate the practices in the book to the best of their collective ability. Christmas was going to be celebrated for the first time ever in the sewers.

As the date circled on the calendar drew ever nearer, they set about accumulating all the necessary components as best they could. Upon the wall nearest the entrance they nailed the cleanest gym socks available, the names of each child scrawled neatly upon them in marker. A recently acquired roll of butcher paper served their decoration needs well, the boys fashioning a long sheet into garland. The tree however, was the most difficult to find. 

After a long, fruitless search they eventually settled on a large, half-withered houseplant languishing on the cold steps of a nearby brownstone. Though stealing was strictly verboten by their Master (and they all secretly feared doing so would result in permanent exile to the Naughty List for all four of them), they eventually decided to take it. The crime they perpetrated was a victimless one, they concluded, as the owners clearly did not want the plant else they'd have taken better care of it. Furthermore, it flourished under their diligent care, the brothers eventually festooning it with all manner of homemade decorations when the Day approached. Charlie Brown would have been most pleased.

When all the preparations were at last complete, the entire family stood in the living room admiring their handiwork. Though not nearly as grandiose as those in the book's illustrations, their decorations were nevertheless festive, beautiful, and filled the entire lair with joy. It was a feeling made all the more meaningful as the accoutrements were assembled entirely by their own small hands, a fact Splinter congratulated them on. Something seemed to be missing however, a vital piece that apparently went unnoticed amidst all the hullabaloo...

"We don't have a star!" Donnie pointed out, poring over the contents of the picture book as though it were an instruction manual. "We need a star for the top of the tree!"

"I got it covered."

Raphael ambled away in the direction of the bedrooms then, eventually reemerging with a tiny package wrapped in newspaper clutched in his forest-green fist.

"I've been workin' on it for a while now," he said sheepishly as he revealed the contents of the package. "Figured I'd surprise ya with it."

There in the center of the paper sat a brilliant yellow star. Molded from Play-Doh and adorned with glitter and all manner of plastic jewels, it easily outshone all the other decorations on the tree. Though slightly lopsided it was still lovely, and Splinter gently patted him on the head in appreciation of his efforts.

"Would you like to do us the honors, Raphael?" he suggested, nodding towards the tree.

The strangely subdued hothead approached it, star in hand. He placed it at the top and quickly turned away, a blush rising to his cheeks. His siblings enfolded him in a loving embrace as they stepped back to admire the finished product. The luminance from the string of twinkling white lights bounced off the tin can ornamentation and tinsel made of aluminum foil, making it appear as though the tree was comprised entirely of starlight. Topped off with the pièce de résistance, the shimmering gold star constructed by Raphael's own hand, It truly was a sight to behold.

"Now we just gotta put together a snack for Santa!" Mikey excitedly cried, making a beeline for the fridge.

Shoving aside boxes of fishsticks and bags of peas, he eventually settled on some frozen pizza all the way in the back. He tossed it into the microwave, then immediately went about pouring a glass of soda for the mysterious gift-giver.

"Mikey, we can't give Santa frozen pizza!" Leo griped. "Its covered in freezer burn. It must've been in there for about ten years!"

"So what?" Mikey replied, hastily scribbling a 'thank you' note in orange crayon. "Captain America was frozen for like, _fifty years_ , and he's still good!"

"Not to belabor the point," Donnie said, holding up the book for all to see. "But a plate of cookies and a glass of milk seem to be Santa's preferred method of payment. What happened to the box of chocolate chip cookies that were in the cabinet?"

"Ummm..."

"Mikey!" The brothers cried in unison.

"What? I was hungry!" He said, shrugging his shoulders. "And anyway, who doesn't like pizza?" 

"Ya know Mikey, yer the one who kept sayin' ya wanted everythin' to be perfect!" Raph responded, leveling an accusing finger at his orange-banded brother. "We were savin' those cookies for Santa!"

"Highly irregular," Donnie agreed, arms crossed resolutely against his plastron.

"C'mon you guys, it's really not that big of a deal," Leo offered, ever the voice of reason. "I'm sure Santa won't have a problem with pizza. Right, Sensai?"

"You are absolutely correct," Splinter said, nodding sagely. "Now let this be the end of the arguing. This night is supposed to be one of togetherness and love for one's family, _not_ petty bickering."

"See, Raphie? Told you it'd be fine!" Mikey crowed, a victorious smile splayed across his lips. 

"Pssh," Raphael seethed, glowering at Mikey from where he stood near the tree.

Never quite knowing when to leave well enough alone, Mikey approached the red-clad terrapin with pizza in hand. "C'mon Raphie, want a bite?" He taunted, his sky-blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Get that outta my face!" Raph screeched, giving his sibling a firm shove. 

Emitting a soft cry and flailing his arms wildly about, Mikey stumbled backwards, his feet becoming entangled in the chord from the Christmas tree lights. Down he went like a ton of bricks, landing flat on his rump and taking the tree down with him. Both pizza and ornaments went flying pell-mell through the air as Mikey squirmed beneath the tree, becoming further entwined.

"Guys, help!" He cried, thrashing around like a fish ensnared in a net.

Mikey could feel Raphael's venomous gaze upon him as they righted the tree and scooped up the fallen ornaments, could practically see the gears turning in his red-banded brother's brain as he undoubtedly fantasized about beating him into a puddle of green goo. 

"I'm sorry Raphie," he whispered meekly, unable to look him in the eye.

"Pssh. _Whatever_. Like I even care," Raph grumbled. "And _don't_ call me 'Raphie.'"

They continued on in silence, till Leo made a most disheartening discovery. The young leader-in-training gasped as he stood over the remains of the star, smashed into a dozen pieces near the far wall. The remaining brothers gathered around it as though it were a crime scene, just as dismayed at the loss of so fine a topper. None more so than Raphael, however.

"This is all _your_ fault!" He roared, turning on his sea-green sibling. "Ya ruin _everythin'_ , Mikey! All you do is get in the way and mess things up! Idiot!"

He punctuated the invective with a sound swipe to the boy's head, hard enough to send the prankster careening into the wall. Mikey clutched the side of his face as tears filled his azure eyes. A thin trickle of blood slid from one nostril, down his chin and onto the rug at his feet.

"That is **enough**!" Splinter boomed, ending the skirmish once and for all.

"But Sensai, he _does_ ruin everythin'," Raph fumed, the rat's ink-black eyes boring into him. "And he's such a crybaby, too! Why do ya always gotta protect him, huh?"

The others gasped at their sibling's breathtaking display of insubordination, looking from one to the other with eyes wide and mouths agape. This, they knew, was not going to end well.

"Raphael, you will mind your tongue when addressing me," Splinter replied, his tone low and menacing. "And I should like to remind you what this holiday is all about, the holiday _you_ so desperately wished to celebrate. It isn't about receiving gifts Raphael, the very opposite in fact. If you must know, Santa Claus is merely a..."

"Um, Sensai? I hate to interrupt watching Raph getting his butt handed to him," Donnie interjected, "but Mikey's gone."

"He ran out crying," Leo chimed in, motioning toward the wide open front door.

The look on Splinter's face said it all.

"I'll go get 'im," Raphael said with a huff.

***

Traipsing through the sewers, hands balled into fists at his sides, Raphael thought only of how disastrous their first Christmas ever turned out to be. The same images replayed in a continuous loop in his head, over and over; The ire in Splinter's eyes as he admonished him, the star he worked on so furtively smashed into dust on the floor mere moments after its grand unveiling, that smug little smile on Mikey's face when their Sensai came to his defense...

"Its all _his_ fault!" he cried, punching the putrid sewer air before him.

That stupid idiot, that klutz. Always messing everything up and never getting into trouble, unlike Raph. Mikey singlehandedly screwed up an entire holiday, their _first_ ever, and not so much as a peep from Splinter, whereas Raph just gave him the reprimand he so sorely deserved and got screamed stupid by the rat. Woe betide that freckle-faced fool!

Raphael couldn't wait to find him, if for no other reason than to finish administering his much-needed beatdown. Minutes stretched to hours however, their usual hiding spots yielding no results. The sewers held no secrets for him, Raph having spent his entire life plunging its depths with his brothers...yet no sign could be found of the boy.

The more he traversed their underground dwelling the more his rage began to ebb, eventually being replaced with worry. It wasn't like Mikey to run off and mope for hours on end, that distinction belonging solely to Raphael. Where could that little weirdo possibly have gone? 

With no options left, he decided to go topside.

A light snowfall began, a fine dusting of the stuff covering every available surface. It glittered in the light of the streetlamps and tickled his nose as he looked up into the night sky, contemplating his next move. He hadn't any idea where to go next, and knew that returning to the lair without him was simply not an option.

What if he never found Mikey? As much as he hated to admit it, the fear of Splinter's reaction wasn't nearly as terrifying as the thought of never seeing his brother again. Fond memories spent with his sibling at his side rose to the fore as he continued his quest.

He thought of all the mornings spent watching cartoons beside him, eating handfuls of sugary cereal from the box between them. He thought of all the times he graciously agreed to play guinea pig for Mikey's stomach-churning "culinary experiments," and how he'd subsequently be roped into a hasty, terror-fueled kitchen clean-up before Splinter found out. He looked back on all the "movies" they made, reenactments of their favorite Arnold Schwarzenegger-centric scenes with their action figures as the stars and towering Lego-monoliths as the backdrops. He even thought fondly of that one time he begrudgingly agreed to a manicure. Mikey painted his nails a tactical black, thus rendering him, in the goofball's own words, "10% more ninja-y."

He thought of that joyful smile of his, and of that high-pitched, lilting belly laugh that was always, _always_ sure to follow. And he thought of how he may never experience either ever again. 

He hated to admit it, but he knew it was true. If Mikey was gone for good, if something awful befell him and they were never to see him again, it would be the one thing Raph couldn't blame him for. The blame fell squarely on his shoulders for having driven him away, and he hated himself for it.

Though the streets were strangely desolate he still clung to the shadows as he searched, ever wary of human eyes just as he was taught. He wondered if Mikey was being careful as well. Could he possibly have been spotted by someone, so overcome with despair that he simply hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings? Could that very someone have mistaken him for an alien and dragged him away, kicking and screaming, to some secret government facility to be experimented upon? Was Mikey being dissected as Raph searched in vain for him, crying out for his brothers as he lay on a cold metal slab, his eyes widening in horror as a pair of gloved hands appeared before his tear-slick face with a scalpel clasped within them...

Raph hastily wiped away the tears that sprung to his emerald eyes, banishing the scenario to the far recesses of his mind as best he could. It did no good to think that way. All he could do now was search, and hope. 

He eventually found himself near Central Park. It seemed as good a place as any to investigate, and in he went. Though he never quite cared for the natural beauty the park offered, preferring instead the dark, secluded confines of the sewers and the safety it afforded his clan, the landscape spread out before him seemed oddly beautiful. The snowy expanse shimmered in the moonlight, its luster seeming to take on a pleasing shade of periwinkle in places. 

Large rocks and trees in the vicinity however threw off long, malformed shadows, marring the loveliness of the scene. They looked disturbingly like the skeletal fingers of some ethereal beast, reaching out and trying to claw at anything fool enough to enter its domain. The image served as a stark reminder to Raphael of why he was there in the first place, and he gulped as he continued his trek.

He realized the snow had become much deeper as he trudged along, the flakes falling at a quick, steady pace. The wind had begun to pick up as well, its eerie howl chilling him far more than the drastic drop in temperature. He blew into his palms and rubbed his upper arms, bemoaning his lack of proper winter attire and once again on the verge of tears when he spotted it - a decidedly turtle-esque silhouette sitting at the base of a gnarled, leafless oak. 

It wasn't moving.

Wrought with panic he broke into a blind run, heedless of whomever may be watching. The bitter cold stung his face and numbed his extremities but still he ran, screaming his brother's name all the while. He dropped to his knees when at last he reached him, the boy still sitting inert as snowflakes alit upon him, eyes shut tight and the tails of his bright orange mask whipping wildly about his slack face. Flecks of dried blood clung to his upper lip.

"Mikey?" he said imploringly, reaching a trembling hand out to him. He gently caressed the boy's cheek, his skin so cold it almost burned.

"M-Mikey?"

Still no response. The tears began to flow freely, Raph's heart sinking into his stomach as he gently shook his sibling's limp shoulders. He pulled Mikey to him then, held him fast to his plastron as he wept.

"I'm so sorry!" he wailed, burying his face in the side of Mikey's head. "I never shoulda hit ya, never shoulda yelled. Its all _my_ fault, everythin'! I mess everythin' up..."

"...Dude. Say that one more time, would you? Heh."

His eyes snapping open at the sound of his brother's voice, Raph quickly pulled away from him and looked him squarely in the face. Though the ghastly pallor of his skin would have suggested otherwise, Mikey was very much alive. And very much enjoying his hot-headed sibling's anguished cries, if the ear-splitting smile upon his face was any indication.

"Mikey! What the hell are ya doin' out here?" Raph cried, shaking him. "Ya scared me half ta death!"

"Just needed to take a little rest, dude!" Mikey replied nonchalantly. "Us turtles aren't real suited to the cold, you know? 'Cause we're all like, ectothermic and stuff."

" _Endothermic_ , Mikey," Raph said, rubbing the boy's arms in a frantic attempt to raise his temperature. "And I _meant_ , what are ya doin' topside?"

"Well, I was looking for this..."

He reached down to his side, his hand groping around for something half-hidden in the snow. Brushing the white stuff aside he held it up for Raph to inspect, a triumphant smile upon his face. 

"I went looking in every dumpster and garbage can in the city till I found it," Mikey explained, handing the star to him. "I know its not as nice as the one _you_ made, but I hope you like it anyway. I'm sorry I messed things up so bad, Raphie. Uh, I mean...Raph."

Raphael turned the topper over in his hand, examining its every facet. Though it had clearly seen better days, numerous dings and dents visible upon its surface, it was still in pretty good condition. Absurdly garish in every respect, it was obvious why Mikey chose it; it was remarkably similar to the one Raph made, albeit in a far more refined form.

A fine golden filigree ran along the border, while brightly colored gemstones accented each point. Upon closer observation, Raph could vaguely make out tiny angels carved into it, some strumming near-microscopic harps while others tooted teeny tiny trumpets. It was a most impressive feat of Christmas tree topper artistry, truth be told. It was what Raph would have made, perhaps, had he the skill and materials to do so.

"Mikey! You've been runnin' around out here for hours and damn near froze to death just to get a friggin' _star_?"

"I didn't want you to be mad at me," he responded quietly, eyes downcast.

"I'd have been way madder if ya died out here, dummy!" Raph said, pulling Mikey to him in a fierce hug the blue-eyed boy happily accepted.

"Its just...you worked so hard on that star, and I made you get all mad at me and everything, and I just..." 

"Listen ta me," Raph interrupted. "Ya didn't do anything' wrong. I lost my temper and I never shoulda hit ya, and..."

"...Raph?"

"And I..." Raph looked wistfully down at the topper, its heft seeming to have increased all of a sudden. "I love ya, Mikey. I love ya more than any dumb ol' star. You're like...the star on my Christmas tree of life...or whatever."

"Awww, Raph!" Mikey cried, gleefully throwing his arms around the red-clad terrapin. "That was literally the cheesiest thing I ever heard, dude! But I love you too, bro."

"I love ya too, Mikey," he replied, gently caressing his shell. "I love ya, too."

The distant tinkling of hand bells could be heard as the brothers embraced, followed by the jubilant, off-key caterwauling of nearby carolers. Their song, though not exactly pleasant to their young ears, filled them with joy.

"Is that... _Jingle Bells_ they're singin'?" Raph asked, straining to listen. "Sounds like they had a little too much egg nog, heh."

"You know dude, with all the running around I was doing I actually kinda forgot that it was Christmas Day!" Mikey said with a laugh. "Duh!"

"I remembered."

Raphael grasped Mikey's hands, helping him to his feet. Giving his hand an affectionate squeeze, Mikey smiled sweetly up at his brother.

"Thanks, Raphie! Um, sorry. I meant Raph."

"Its okay little brother, ya can call me Raphie," he said. "Now let's go home. Splinter was just about to tell us somethin' real important about Santa Claus!"

"Sweet!"

Off they went, wading through the snow with their arms around one another's shoulders. They blithely joined in on the caroler's song as they walked, their voices joining seamlessly with the others.

**Author's Note:**

> "The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other." ~Burton Hillis


End file.
